Post by Nanami on Jul 18, 2018 1:43:34 GMT -5

She hummed quietly as she made her way through the kitchen. The kettle had begun to steam, a golden flame dancing beneath it merrily. Some meats were cooking, nearly finished she wagered by the way the scents carried through her quiet little home. She flipped another page and scanned the words, waiting for the right moment. It was a delicate balance to strike, it had the chance to be perfect but one misstep, one miscalculation would send the whole thing spiralling. She snapped the book shut and placed it on the shelf her simple song picking up in tenor as she swept through her kitchen. The pot lifted off the stovetop carefully pouring the steaming water atop the waiting leaves. The flame let out a gentle hiss as it died with its purpose served. She tilted the frying pan depositing the sausages on top the plate and set about scooping two eggs atop her plate.

With no break in her stride she swept the pans into the sink and flowed through the kitchen to her favorite stool and sat down, legs crossed and plate down upon the table. She clasped her hands together and gave greeting to the spirits within her before she set about the task of her feast.

She had come full circle in seven or so years. She had found in her long, long time that these patterns were to be expected, and embraced because fighting it never seemed to do very much good. While it might seem like her time had led her back to exactly where she had begun it was far from true. The devil, as always, was in the details.

Nanami. Sumizori. Shirazayagami. Three parts of the whole, each as important as the one before and after. Nanami had begun this leg of her journey in the heart of Karakura, in a lonely run down bookstore hiding from her nature but seeking some way for her to rejoin the world once again. She had built herself a place of solitude, a quiet home that she could have spent centuries in, with her books, with her hobbies, hidden away, safe. Now here she sat, in a home as perfect for her as any of the countless that had come before it banished once more from the Seireitei in the world of the living. Quiet. Remote. A morning spent in contemplation over one more book, a needless meal cooked for the meditative nature of the task provided. She had her place away from the world, but she was far, far from isolated.

She had refused to hide the truth of who she was from the Seireitei, and she barely escaped with her life to the uncaring sands of Hueco Mundo. There, half dead, she had allowed Sumizori to guide her, she embraced the beast within herself and honed her instincts against the Hollow beasts that hunted her. In time, as she healed from her wounds thanks to the gifts of her spirit, she took control back and found herself deep within the unshifting dunes of the moonlit desert and set about on her journey to Las Noches accompanied by her mask and blade.

Nanami's purpose had been as it ever had since she awakened to it millenia ago. Balance had to be upheld for the worlds to coexist, for harmony to hold and there had to be agents preserving that balance. She was a Shinigami, no matter the mask she wore, no matter who she wielded her blade against: She was Shinigami. To that end, it didn't matter what had to be done, it didn't matter who she would be allied to, enemies of, whether the Gotei, Las Noches, the Quincy. All of them had their purpose, all of them were required to exist in equal measure for balance to be.

And thus her years passed. She kept the background, to the shadows. She worked tirelessly. When a Shinigami found themselves broken, and battered, when all seemed hopeless and the monsters closed in she would be there to offer them a second chance, to help them up and show them the way forward. When a Hollow found itself opposite a hunt that seemed just out of its reach, when it struggled so closed to understanding, to freedom she would help them push through and break the mask that bound them. She sharpened the blades of Arrancar, eliminated those who sought only chaos and wreaked destruction, rescued quincy on the brink of annihilation at the same time she made sure they'd never ever fulfill their purpose.

And in moments like these, the interludes she found her peace and quiet, she centered herself and reflected, considered, planned and plotted her next steps doing her very best to promote these worlds into a version of stability.

Never order, never chaos, but something in the middle, balanced on the edge of a blade.